Blasphemous Rumors
by Kriftonucci
Summary: You can either be happy with what you have, even though it’s not what you’ve always wanted. Or you can have what you want, even though you’re not happy the way you got it.
1. Girl of sixteen

Blasphemous Rumors

By Ten Black Roses

Song by Depeche Mode

**"You can either be happy with what you have, even though it's not what you've always wanted. Or you can have what you want, even though you're not happy the way you got it"**

_Girl of sixteen..._

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"_Happy birthday, dear Isabella, happy birthday to you"_

_Cheering and clapping was heard in the Garicas' summer home found in Tennessee as they celebrated their daughter's eleventh birthday. Isabella was so excited to see her birthday was worth all the trouble. This day was hopefully on the road towards anywhere but devastation._

"_All right, dear, now make a wish and blow out the candles" Said her mother._

_Isabella was so excited. Normally, children don't have to think deep to make a wish in their youthful birthday. Isabella wanted to break that superfluous custom. She closed her eyes in order to imagine the considerable possibilities._

_Alas, she didn't know what she wanted out of many things. But as long as this day was still special for her, she deserved something that although appeared from pure greed, wasn't really as valuable as an object. _

_It was priceless, so she made a wish that was not just beyond obvious, but due to that reason, repetitive. _

_Once having made this wish, it will have been the third time this birthday it would probably be left disregarded. She gave her hope up for that simple desire. If it meant swearing to everyone she would never make it again if it came true, there was no shoddier risk._

_The candles were flawlessly doused after her decision was made._

_She wanted it, no matter what the cost._

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(Two years, two months, one week, five days, ten hours, six minutes, and forty two seconds ago)

In a way, nothing is ever changing. Almost everything in plain view has a way of retaining itself from valid modification. In fact, even difference has its source of self-contradiction.

Take into thought what mistakes people make. They claim they learn from them and that it makes them better human beings. However, there are others who claim they make mistakes because "they are only human"

Therefore, If people make mistakes because "they're only human", how exactly are they getting better?

They aren't, but when it comes to breaking through the walls of denial for their own being, humans can go anywhere they want in the fields of happiness, and when they're striving towards optimism, never are they aware of the price that comes within the virtually ironic dependence for their own defiance. Defiance pro the fact they will never change, for mostly better than worse.

Even if it has distinctively changed, the explicit purpose for its actions hasn't. People are always the same. The only difference surges from the extremes they are willing to go to in order to remain happy. Even if, which seems almost absurd, they have to sacrifice it sometimes.

Knowledge like this would serve someone in ways, good or bad, depending on their feelings. Candace knew this, but desolation was the only thing she was feeling right there. What was even worse was it could have started off due to her seemingly perpetual sadness that had given her this thought to begin with.

It wasn't helping her in the fields of emotional healing.

She didn't want it to end, especially like this. Similar to reading something with words inverted, it was as though Candace was derelict in her own space among anyone who didn't have the balls to follow her example. She never thought that lying in a fetal position might alleviate the tumor within her mind called apprehension.

This could overshadow any other moment of dejection she'd hoisted before.

The more she tried in preserving the tears, the more they forced out of her. It wasn't painful, but annoying to the point it seemed like it. Loneliness could lead anyone to extreme self-consciousness with the world. It could be dangerous when Candace knew too much to the point of having her qualified as a psychiatrist.

"_Please Mom, I want to change. I know what I did wrong, okay."_

"_Well you'd better Candace. Don't think I can change your diapers forever. You're already sixteen, why on earth do you still need me to remind you how to fix everything?"_

It was as though her torment was reviving events that were supposed to be kept locked in the past six weeks ago, leaving her weakened without any hope of even trying to think of something happy.

"_I promise, Mom, I will improve"_

"_Hmm, like anyone could believe you now"_

"_But Mom, it's not my fault, I didn't feel well, and I knew I was going to fail the test"_

"_I don't want to hear anymore from you, young lady. Your excuses don't explain why you had a second chance but blew I anyway. Are you even aware how much we pay for your school every godforsaken day?"_

She was part of a family to be sure of that. It only came down to how she could remember grudges would never help her improve. But if it was really her fault, she wouldn't be human.

"_Candace, aren't you supposed to be working on that project"_

"_I am, Mom, but it's not-"_

"_You said you were going to improve, so you'd better-"_

"Shut…the FUCK…UP!!!" Yelled Candace, stuttering out of so much sniveling she had done. Her thoughts were interrupted enough for her to temporarily forget what they were about. But nothing would change the simple fact it was just never able to go away. Not even six weeks of progress.

Her mother didn't think that of Candace any longer. But when she did, Linda hadn't been aware of how mind-numbing her words could be. Her impatience had precluded her from actually taking the time to talk to her daughter in a more placid form. Even when Candace asked for it during the time she was pissed off.

Now, Candace could only make an attempt to talk with herself while submerged in expectation it would lead her to a way out of this nerve-racking disarray.

_Where am I? _Asked Candace, she tried to look around her room. Rubbing the moisture out of her eyes, she gazed around the spaces.

Pink wallpaper, white bed, overdone closet, and other furnishings that might perhaps be the sole definition of what she now knew could have been betraying her all along: vanities.

"I'm not getting a clear picture of this" She began.

"Where is my pride supposed to be?"

Candace stood up. She walked towards her bed so she could kneel down and look under. Needlessly, she tried to look carefully under it, making sure there wasn't an inch she might have ignored.

_Is it under the bed?_ Asked Candace, later she got up and walked towards her closet. Regardless that it wouldn't have made any more sense even if she had turned on the light.

"Did I leave it in the closet?" She persisted on asking while opening it, Candace reacted in a way she knew there really wasn't anything. She shut its door and kneeled back into a ball, crouching right behind the spot she had just looked in.

Candace was expecting a light of some sort when it came to relief, something that could illuminate the room without her necessity. She wanted a trail that could lead her out of the vague cave of schizophrenia slowly trying to outlaw her from the world. Making her believe it could be like the time she got stuck in the Cretaceous era.

Only she was pretty damn sure there was no way of coming back for once.

Her eyes began to develop a jerk, signifying that during a bloody battle, her common sense was on the verge of renouncing. Even with her hands serving as back up to grasp her head, nothing helped. Inherent hyperventilating could escort it. Candace only wanted to know one thing, even if it helped as minimalist.

_Where I ask you?_

There wasn't a way of calming down. She started to tremble as though the whole world was looking at her. And to think that the circus would have nothing on freaks that's fucked up facade could only be determined by first impressions.

It was difficult to decide if she was scared, skeptic, confused or even all of them put together. But just like a flash bomb, it all went off with only an intensity of image instead of sound. Candace's mind was filled with muddled thoughts, those of which became the basis of one sole image she had based them on.

Because of the unrequited epiphany that made Candace leave a frozen glare, it was this for the cause of her sudden comfort. She no longer had the indisputable urge to claw her head out.

A smile came on, that of which evolved into a substance chuckle. It could have taken her much longer before she was silently laughing to herself. Not frantically but still tastelessly persistent for her insight.

"Hee, oh good, hee", said Candace. She stood up from the ground, still insensible towards leaving no retort for having been surrounded by darkness. Candace may not have been a rat, but in her view, she desired something much more indefinite than revenge.

Pride wasn't anything to consider obscure when taken into thought inside the course of reality. It was only the way she wanted to retain it, within her crooked certainty that made it ambiguous.

"Now I remember" Began Candace.

She looked around, being able to care less if darkness made it hard to see anything. Nevertheless did she remember quite well where she had left her mirror.

_I gave it to the little girl… _Candace found the mirror and then grabbed hold of it to see her reflection almost acutely.

…_who was once me_.

Candace looked into it. Regardless of the fact by which darkness didn't allow her to actually see anything. From her perception, she could imagine seeing herself, seven years ago. A lighthearted smile garlanded her face with optimism, seeming as though it could stay that way. No matter what happened.

"Come to think of it, she deserves to be thanked" Said Candace. Her hands began to tremble the longer she looked into her reflection. Quick enough to see she had been looking at nothing all this time.

CRASH!

Shards of broken glass covered the floor. How forceful Candace must have been in order to take less concern if the rest of her family might have awoken from her fury being smashed along with the mirror, even if they were present in the house.

Kneeling down, Candace took a few seconds to catch air. She could still suppose her reflection was visible, even without any radiance as she took hold of one of the shards. A reflection she didn't have to see to know it was there.

Her smile was too convincing if it meant she was still trying to stray away from rationality. Or even sanity from what anyone could have figured out.

_Such a cute tender girl, it's too bad the world didn't deserve her!_ Thought Candace, so little of this could have meant too much had she not been drowning by collective seclusion. No wonder she was happy for the most uneven of causes.

All Candace wanted to do was quit lingering. She didn't want this psychological sting to rape her mind with uneasy resent any longer. The pain was too intense for her to believe it wasn't physical. Candace closed her eyes.

Opening them, she found herself in the bathroom seconds later. Water was running within the bath. Undressed to the point her skin experienced a freezing sensation her resolve mesmerized her to believe she was unaware of its existence. The water wasn't so warm either when immersing her body into it. It was like someone had attached invisible strings to her, and was currently chanting "dance, puppet, dance", even when her purpose seemed fraudulent enough.

Only one more deed to be taken under her hand, this was either literal or ironic when Candace took it into mind. She still grasped a shard of the mirror, imbibing her reflection for the last time, all becoming quite a significant moment for her to relish.

She could stop swimming in wonder about the doubts in life. Hell wouldn't be as bad even if she wasn't trying to fake her belief for her own religion. Maybe this had been all a scam, put up by everyone in the world to make sure her life is sustained. Maybe she was just another typical person who found that life was too good for her.

Maybe she wasn't even going to die; she was just going to take a different shape.

After all, none of them mattered to her. Her just desire right then was to locate the person that no longer existed in her by transpiring through the most incongruous form imaginable.

_Oh I just can't imagine the look on that sweet little girl's face_, thought Candace, looking even closer at her reflection_. She's waited for too long just to see someone express a simple and well deserved token of gratitude._

It wasn't as painful the first graze that slashed both her wrists. But after she was submerged in water, there wasn't a doubt. She could cry if her willpower wasn't eavesdropping to the point it gave her the obscure idea it was worth it.

"Not even heaven deserved to have her…"


	2. Fighting back the tears

_Fighting back the tears..._

(One week, five days, five hours, two minutes, and forty two seconds later)

"Mom, is Candace going to be well again?" He asked. It didn't matter if it might've perhaps brought more unease to his own mother, Phineas was too naïve to understand.

"Phineas, I don't know, okay? Just go and play with your brother" She replied.

Linda was alone in her room, sitting on her bed as though she were ready to sleep. She was ready for anything that was on the verge of moving on.

All was cooperative as it remained silent, but not if it dealt with anything that wasn't going to cure her daughter, or the insupportable guilt she couldn't decide whether it was there or just coming from her imagination. When humans can't get any better and know it, they are left with the choice of putting themselves out of their own despair. But when not even that works as a detour, they become trapped in a maze that turned out to be a labyrinth from the beginning.

She was out of luck, if she even believed in it as of now. Walking towards her cupboard, Linda grabbed hold of her crucifix necklace. A simple glance was enough to remind her on how much she really doubted her efforts in keeping this family from falling apart.

She had already lost someone, why would she want to lose another? Years of trust that in spite of acting even the slightest of inconsiderate towards the attention to others signified she was walking, no, flying over unknown regions as of then.

"Tell me, God, because you know more than I do. At least show me what I did wrong. I want to know, please". She wasn't afraid to cry, but shame still emerged as a side effect. Right now, Linda could imagine tons of families who may have had the same issues, but at least never lost faith, whether or not they weren't going to last together for a long time.

She held the necklace close to her face. In hopes an instant like this one couldn't be as generic as any other she had experienced before. Her only wish right now was for someone to hear her. Even if that someone wasn't God, at least an angel who knew she had done more than enough.

Linda didn't even suspect it couldn't have been her own fault. Any mother could be on the verge of self-sacrifice if it meant she didn't want to be alone. Just as long as she never took for granted it was too stable.

"Mom?"

When it came to being human, having emotions was a benefit sometimes. It would make anyone appreciate how unlikely it was when something was more essential than human instinct would make it seem.

Why would Linda want to suspect anything else? She turned to see Ferb, her only non-biological son facing her way. She must admit it was really a bit of a surprise.

"Hi F-ferb" Linda replied while smearing off part of the wetness from her face. Even for a stepmom, she didn't want to serve as a paradigm for how one shouldn't be. Her patience for Ferb in reacting towards her perception of his existence could be a start.

"Mom… I have been thinking a lot towards what had just occurred…"

Ferb made a brief pause. Anyone was capable of occupying fear enough to hesitate, no matter how confident they thought they could be. Ferb never lied, but he certainly failed in trying to explain everything with four fifths of fully specifying. Ferb knew he had no choice if he wanted to be sincere in a situation like this for once, just like his step-mother.

"It's my entire fault, I'm sorry" Ferb said. He still had his eyes covered within the grasp of her hands. At least Linda knew for sure what empathy meant: Ferb was just like her.

"Oh Ferb, come here" Replied Linda, spreading her arms around her own step-son. There was no other comfort in the world that could replace this sort. Ferb also had the idea of this being something more or less new to him.

"It's no one's own fault, honey. Everyone's always inadequate in this life. We just got to learn to understand things aren't always what they will be"

They both understood what the ease of unity could really mean as of there. In spite of it lasting for only a minute when Ferb finally realized he still had the chance to have something cleared up.

"Will Candace come back soon?"

A question like that one wasn't so hard to answer, if you knew the answer right away. That's why Linda was far from upbeat when it came to knowing how to reply. Her thoughts were either to admit she was not sure or lie so she didn't have to hop aboard on the sorrow express again.

It was a virtue that Linda knew better when she chose to answer not sincerely, but at least realistically. Even if such face was derived from religion instead of simple experience.

"Ferb, only God would want it. We have to wait and see this all passes."

It was sort of vague, Ferb could admit. But he also knew it could be true when it came to having compassion in others, for once. He just didn't want to make her sad, that was all.

Meanwhile, Phineas was capable of snatching the letter his mother was reading seconds ago. It had been written by Candace before they found her, the authorities claiming to have been written by her before sinking profoundly. Just when it was considered contemptuous material to believe curiosity was near to incurable.

What he wanted to do was examine the letter. As within it, it was written quite mysteriously beginning with "Dear mom" on the top right hand corner, leaving a wide open space of emptiness out, and ending with "Unlovingly, Candace". It was more than strange the way he or anyone with the desire for common sense could see it. He had to examine it or else no sleep for him.

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	3. Chorus

_Chorus_

(Approximately one hour later)

The sun's presence was but a shadow for a day inside the hospital, making it a convenient abode for silence to fit in. No one else would have imagined a case such as this one would have had enough shock to keep anyone from speaking their mind. It made everyone think to the point of almost becoming unaware they had an employment to begin with.

Only one person who didn't need to be there was sitting outside the infirmary. He was a tall guy whose blond hair grew to a fair length and he wore a green-yellow shirt with khaki shorts.

It was no wonder Jeremy Johnson couldn't be found anywhere else, as it seemed he was the only person who wanted to talk with someone even the doctors felt uncomfortable in even trying to take a glimpse at.

Candace Flynn.

"Hello, may I help you?" The doctor asked, after coming out of the room.

"I need to see someone, she's in that room" Replied Jeremy, motioning towards the door the doctor had come out of a moment ago.

"We don't usually allow anyone except family members beyond this point, but it's cynical to believe it could be possible anyone would be capable of talking to that girl, go right on ahead" The doctor retorted.

Jeremy went inside the door without thinking twice as soon as the doctor walked away.

For a while Candace knew what it was like to see someone you truly admire yet sense too insecure to react. Now it was Jeremy that held the torch, along with a tinge of revelation to be fair. Jeremy wasn't petrified, but it did tarnish his train of thought to see her like that.

Apart from the syringe connected to her arm and the casts wrapped around both her wrists, Candace didn't look severely injured, at least not from the outside.

Her eyes were squinting for a bit as they began to open. A blur coated her view before she could see with utmost precision the person it was that had just entered inside.

"Jeremy?" She asked, although it seemed as though it was too much from her.

"Hi, Candace" He replied, holding out one hand for a trouble-free wave.

Candace smiled even though her desire to wave back was canceled out by the fact it would hurt if she tried. Her arms may have been barely movable, but the one thing that was in critical condition could have been her conscience.

The presence of someone, who she never knew could have more control over her than her own family, wasn't going to cure her, unless she learned to quit prejudicing everything only for the sake of clearing up the doubts which really could have mattered less for her to begin with.

"So, what's new?" She realized in asking.

It was beneficial that Jeremy wasn't apathetic yet simultaneously straightforward when it came to talking. That is if Candace only knew.

"If it doesn't offend you too much, I could ask you the same question" Jeremy replied.

Truthfully, this didn't even hurt her feelings. But after recovering from an experience that was so coincidentally connected with ending her life it would have to be simply called suicide, Candace wasn't so sure of anything anymore.

Yet had it not been for the mere charisma Jeremy's appearance brought, she wouldn't have believed she could for the least part try.

"I don't know what happened to me. I thought my world wasn't the same anymore, I thought everything I did was not helping in any way to make things better…Oh, and just thinking about it hurts my head real bad. I felt as though…" Candace's justification was immediately thrown into a hiatus from uncertainty towards what the truth should sound like.

But hey, if Jeremy could do it, so could she somehow.

"…I felt as though God didn't want me anymore"

Maybe honesty was the most valuable step on following the order towards true comfort. Even if it had to be blunt and spiteful, it was still never worth keeping it forever. Jeremy could even say he was stunned, even though his face wasn't convincing enough.

"Candace, I'm going to tell you two things, unless you won't feel happy in hearing them" Replied Jeremy.

"Go ahead, a defect like me hasn't earned it any less" She replied, drooping her head.

"But that's just it; you're **not** a defect for starters" Began Jeremy. Mildly satisfied to see Candace had obtained his attention.

"Maybe you think you're a defect who thinks life's already gone downhill. But let's look outside the room for a bit, no one else thinks that of you"

Her eyes almost enlarged. Somehow, Candace wished she had a video camera or something to help her cherish all of this.

"Okay, maybe you're a bit weird, but how's that a bad thing? No one hates you to the point you'd think acquaintances are a myth, second, if God really didn't want you, you wouldn't be here right now, now would you?"

Candace didn't have to feel impressed. She just had to understand every detail to the point it would have nothing to do with how it was he knew all of this, and even more to have been the only person to come here when nobody else seemed to give a fuck.

All of this made her happy when she could fully grasp the image someone like Jeremy was giving her. She could call it a dream come true, whereas she didn't even have to share with anyone else.

_Anyone else?_

Now that Candace thought of it, If only that wasn't an exception for her right to retain this from becoming predictable. In other words, making her think back towards the supposed reaction of her family brought back all the insecurity. But maybe not even that was necessarily anticipated for only her when she still thought of keeping apathy as a preference.

"Okay, I know now God has a funny way of saying I'm part of this world, but he's not someone who will yell at me when I clarify it to him" Replied Candace.

"Clarify what?" Jeremy asked.

"My dumb reason why I wanted to kill myself, he's not going to say much, I'm sure of that, but my Mother might and considering the odds, will."

Jeremy was nearly stumped on that remark. He turned to the left and began stroking his chin, in spite of the mediocre impression he could be confirming. The good thing though was he now knew what to say. The bad thing was he decided not to play this game at all if it was only going to stay in challenge mode.

"Candace, maybe you don't have to think it's harder than it is; maybe you just need someone to guide you" Replied Jeremy.

It served quite well as an advantage for Candace to be incapable of guessing what his next mention was going to be. If not, she wouldn't have held her tongue from saying _Will YOU guide me? Sweet!_ Plus, she didn't have to say anything at all from what she could see what Jeremy was doing.

Out of his pocket he took out a very thick paperback book. It was blue with the words "Bible" heavily written on the cover.

"This is for you" Said Jeremy. He placed the book on top of the cupboard to the left side of Candace. Her jaw dropped after she heard Jeremy say those words. But she was no more amazed than he was from the get-go.

"I need to leave, Candace. Maybe that can help you. I found it in a flea market a week ago, but figured it was more expensive than the price they sold it to me for."

_How romantic_ Candace thought sanguinely, yet continued to hold her tongue. Instead, she just replied to the specified verity of his departure.

"Oh thanks. Bye Jeremy and thank you"

"Bye Candace, I hope you get better soon" He replied, before leaving through the door he had entered.

_Back to reality_ Candace thought, now realizing she was alone again. Even though she was finally alert for all that had been going on, it didn't really do her much good, even though it was better than having herself kept locked up in a mental prison cell.

Nevertheless, she still felt more than nervous upon having her mind devour the deliberation of what would happen after she left the hospital. Apart from feeling comfortable here, Candace knew it wasn't going to remain that way for long. Once she was home again, the pressure of demanding answers, not only from her family, but from anyone else who knew her, was going to come scampering at her like an irate dog.

It even felt as though she was about to look at death right on the face, not that an aneurism was less likely than she thought.

_Damn it!_ Thought Candace who barely trying to find a way out of this. _If only God knew how to control me, that way I could be the perfect-_

Not everyone's train of thought could be cut off without the sudden revelation of an idea they had previously thought off. Candace found two that linked to each other: One that existed in her mind, and the other, was the sole book lying down on a cupboard to her right side.

_God._

Whether it was because the guy of her dreams gave it to her or because it seemed to appear readable, Candace only knew she had gone through all that trouble and finally found it: the light.

"This is going to hurt, but if Jesus could heal from it, so can I!" Candace told herself. An instant later, she began flinching a bit as she slowly hoists her hands, and took hold of the book. The pain was almost insupportable, but it was better than having to be refrained from having common sense tell her it did.

It had taken more than expected for her to have it reach her lap. Eventually, she knew from the start it was valuable after all. She began to read once opening the door into the world of the holy and the divine. It commenced with the basic story from the Old Testament about an old fairy tale-like narrative her Mother once talked to her about which originated from the first reading of Genesis, which dealt with the creation of the earth, the heavens and most of all, man.

Later on she managed to make it to higher themes such as Isaiah and Miqueas. As she continues, Candace's anguish slowly faded out of existence. She was never a bookworm, but this Bible she was reading seemed to transform her into more than something like that.

Every story she read made Candace relate how strong morals could be. In the sense of strength as both important and helpful .Especially for someone like her, who was an expert in memorizing ideas.

Since she was young, Candace knew books could teach you more than you already knew, help you understand concepts not recognizable within one's point of view, and transform them into an enhancement of the person whose flaws used to differentiate who they once were.

Even if Candace was drowning a considerable piece of her personality, she was absorbing something better. Something that could really embody the inimitable magnetism that soon not only others would see in her, but so would she. Her egotism would not be surpassing her philanthropy anymore, just as her fear for anything too pointless to worry about will be lost forever.

_Maybe I didn't need God to control me_ thought Candace after flipping one section to the other page.

_Maybe I just needed him to point me in the right direction._

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	4. Girl of eighteen

_Girl of eighteen..._

(Two years, two months, three hours, and four minutes later)

It was eight thirty where the Flynn's lived in as the two brothers were getting ready to go to bed, even if they didn't want at first.

"Nice of the princess to invite us over for a picnic, eh Ferb?" asked Phineas with an impersonalized voice. Ferb gives Phineas an almost exasperated glare.

"Oh, come on Ferb, everyone knows the dumb CD-I code has its "so bad, it's good" certificate to be recognized for" Replied Phineas. Normally, they'd build a whole gathering of inventions to have their boredom vanish. Yet they found it fun to rely on the simplistic nature of what others did to keep themselves entertained.

Ever since their own sister gave up her personality to satisfy the world, she became like a role model to them.

"Not by me, it doesn't" Replied Ferb, almost sternly.

Phineas sighed. Step-brothers usually aren't supposed to see through the same standpoints in mostly everything in life. Unless they were able to at first yet failed to later on, fortuitously breaking that stand alone bond.

Sure it was satisfying to feel normal for a change, yet he could bet quite a lot Ferb wasn't the same either. This wasn't a bad thing in terms of a more habitual communication, but neither a good thing in which boredom had him become a less provocative person than he used to be.

Meaning they both at times desired to have the old Candace back. The person they knew who although was defined by her bipolar complexity and persistent tone was more interesting and fun, at least someone of higher standards than the calm fanatic occupying her body.

It was only because of the near-to-death experience she had more than two years ago for why Candace didn't want to become engulfed in the airs of what once defined her ego yet the basis for her misery as well. Now she was someone you'd expect not to exist anymore in a modern society. Every day, she carried the same bible given to her from that same person who although meant quite much to her, sadly, wasn't much of a threat anymore.

Not to her romance life.

If there was one trait from which Candace wasn't condoned for was more appeal. Every day, she wore a class of uniform only people from the early twentieth century wore perhaps. It may have been as repetitive as her original outfit consisting of a pink shirt with and a red skirt, but no one else seemed to wear what she now wore as a white dress over brown slacks.

Her room was not as tremendously adorned anymore. In her closet, most of her clothes were almost the same, with the exception of what season it was. The only CDs she seemed to listen to from then on were either from Gregorian music, or at least this nearly bland group called Apologetix.

It was true. Her family admired and even loved this new member who defined high caliber when it dealt with keeping happiness in place. But secretly, they could never get used to something else when they've become so habituated with another for the past sixteen years.

In other words, they wanted a sister and a daughter, not an angel.

Sadly, Candace never knew this about her own family as they were too thankful to avoid hiding behind deceit. They tried hard to understand what it was Candace saw in her own religion that made her that way. It was just a matter of knowing Candace had sacrificed her persona to permanently hold the belief her life was to obey someone she was too dedicated to consider even the slightest ounce of scientific evidence to prove existed.

It was a shame Candace could never be aware of the ideal truth trying to show her she really didn't belong in this world anymore. No human on earth could have the decent courage to tell her. It was the key reason to why everything would remain as it is.

Yet just like life, this confidence could never last. Candace would never see it coming even if she had to remain dependant of her knowledge on just one piece of prose.

All Candace was performing was the act of confession within the Saint Downey's church. She was inside one of the ports of confession. All she wanted to spit up was the thoughts within her head that could have been trying to get her on the verge of doing something wrong. Candidly, she was only there to waste the priest's time instead of actually confessing.

It was nine twenty six as of then.

"But that can't be true, man was made to suffer for the sake of serving the lord" She said.

"Yes, but in order for such a deed to be carried out, one mustn't put their trust on apathy, as it strays away from the road of rectitude" He replied.

"I know people need help, and when they get it, that should be enough. Nobody can ever be dissolved under the belief they'd need more than enough. In the first reading from the book of Samuel, section 29, the Philistines no longer doused their trust on David for a legitimate reason. You don't think the boy who cried wolf was just made up out of thin air, do you?" She retaliated, almost incensed.

"Yes, I can comprehend what you're trying to correspond towards" He began.

"But take note that this reading was based off the Old Testament, which lead a corrupt view among numerous evangelists throughout the original millennium. No one could have the sense of hearing their march of accomplishments without gaining even an ounce of confusion overall."

Her eyes still widened, even if Candace wasn't as surprised yet.

"If what you're saying is true, why do we need to teach them all anyhow? Shouldn't any method serve well when the message isn't changed?" She asked.

"That's a good question, and a good answer follows within the New Testament, which bases itself more on Jesus' life between events and mistakes that although could nearly be considered irreverent, still base themselves on mistakes" The priest replied, not needing to emerge calmer than he actually was being

"I don't know what this New Testament is, but it sure sounds irreverent regardless of whatever mistakes. Jesus is the son of God, everyone knows that. Only he can unwillingly commit acts that give mortals the impression-"

"Wait; forgive me for stopping this conversation" Interrupted the Priest.

"Did you say mortals?"

"Yes. It doesn't matter how I call them, the point is Jesus does actions for a reason. Even if that reason looks indistinguishable in the beginning, later on it begins to take shape, and thus be explained sufficiently within the Bible"

"That's what I'm trying to say. Jesus may have been a subliminal miracle worker, but he's like all of us deep down inside" Replied the priest.

He knew Candace might be becoming ticked off from this, so he chose something alternate.

"It's much simpler than you think. The seventh commandment sates "Thou shall not commit adultery", correct? In the reading of Saint Mathias, section 19, Jesus says this at first, but when man was chosen to be not one, but two in separate, with gratitude from the will of God, even that can be forgiven. Even if others renounce this religion, there really is no difference, God created us in his own image, just like his son"

The priest supposed this was perhaps enough to convince her. This couldn't have been nearly in vain if someone like him had proven with basic facts of unquestionable beliefs. It was a disappointment he assumed though, for that reason alone, he couldn't have been anymore wrong.

He couldn't hear anything else more than the door opening and closing. From there and on, it was silent and late.

The darkness no longer mattered to her when she walked outside. The only thing on Candace's mind was utter confusion towards what she had at first thought could clear it instead of making it larger. She had wasted almost four minutes inside that port, with information only someone not as bewildered as her could put together.

"Nobody is perfect God! Why don't you want all of us to enter your sanctified realm?" Candace yelled.

It gave her a feeling, that wasn't feeble enough to doubt familiar after lingering for a short while. A feeling she thought didn't exist anymore and so wasn't going to bother her anymore.

Candace stopped walking, unaware she was in the middle of the desolate highway. While kneeling down, she didn't want anything else interrupting her when she was making an effort to unbundle her ideas.

"I feel like recently, I've been walking in circles! Have I failed you God? Have I gone too far as so to have disconnected my commiseration for the lives of us mortals so I could serve you well? AM I STILL DROWNED BY THE LACK OF PRIDE IN MY PITYFUL LIFE!?" Candace yelled.

Nothing could be as excessive as to distract her once she has been focused on so much while she remained alert. If that hadn't been true, she would have had time to dodge the two fatal glows which hit her almost too quick to have been excruciating.

The first one was the elaborate feeling of déjà vu as she closed her eyes in order to get a better image. Her mind drove her back to the paranoid train of thought she once had. After that event, Candace figured out more than she knew. But one of the most controversial things she got was her naïve idea that of which told her she never deserved to die.

The second glow proved her wrong. For this glow wasn't a strong epiphany, but as she opened her eyes, she soon saw it was something less predictable: fate. Nothing else was seen except two expanding lights before Candace unconsciously struck the road's asphalt.

THUMP!

It was just about nine thirty when the car knocked her landing forcefully to the ground.

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	5. Summer's day

_Summer's day..._

(A week later)

Candace had an even smaller amount of time in the hospital than the day after she tried to kill herself. Death was easier to get to her when she least expected it.

Just like an unstable bungee cord, emotions had their risky ups and downs when used by humans. It taught them how invalid anything could stay when one misjudges something from the beginning. It wasn't the Flynn-Fletcher's honestly didn't want Candace at all thanks to her new attitude. It was only because of the simple yet deplorable fact they didn't deserve her anymore.

No matter what they did.

For the first time in the majority of the family's transparency together, they felt like admitting it really was their own faults, especially the two younger stepbrothers, who no longer felt as constantly joyous as they used to be.

The funeral happened during the night, within the old Aurum cemetery, even as it gently rained that day. Everyone came, not only the Flynn-Fletchers but their relatives as well. Candace's friend Stacey came alone while the Johnsons came together. Even the Doofenshmirtzs came during half of the testimonial interment.

Although it could have mattered less, Phineas noticed for a minor second one person hadn't arrived: Isabella. The loss of his own sister made him believe nothing in life was worth taking as noteworthy anymore. Now that he knew death could come to anyone, no matter how old or how stable.

The hardship never brought itself to a close once back home. Walking downstairs, Phineas finally knew what compassion looked like when he saw his entire family huddled together in the living room. For him it was beyond different, however. His lack of absolute emotion towards a situation like this one made him worry to the point it was almost dangerous to him.

_My sister is dead for crying out loud._ He tried telling himself with force. Were Phineas' emotions somehow shut down by an imaginary force?

He went into the kitchen for a moment to try and think it all through as consistent as he could. At first he believed joining his family could heighten her sense of emotions, had it not been for that same force making him hesitate some more. He was sure it wasn't fear, but as he tried to figure out what it was, it only made the answer stray farther from his grasp.

Phineas decided to merely sit on a chair for as long as it would take him to figure something less simplistic than he wanted it to be. It was an odd mystery that by which he wanted answers before he lost his ability to reason.

Then it came to him.

Phineas wasn't so sure he could be right, but a simple try might help him. It all dealt with knowing if he could get a raw sentiment from someone almost as close to him as his family. Other than that, he also wondered why he hadn't seen her for that long.

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	6. Chorus repeat

_Chorus_

(Fifty five minutes later)

Nine forty in the middle of the night served no threat for Isabella Garcia, even after her family had finished unpacking from their trip to Tennessee. It was a fair place to have her celebrate her birthday in, seeing it was a place she and her family hadn't gone to in years.

One of her gifts was the series of Stephenie Meyer, who she found enjoyable to say the least.

Isabella was lying on her bed as she read "Breaking Dawn" to pass the night. It wasn't as fun as her other gifts, yet she wanted to be sure it was not to be the last thing she was going to enjoy. Save the best for last, that's something which didn't need to be countered upon when it was friendly and easy for anyone desiring an option.

Somewhere along the line, Isabella was expecting something tonight. A talk with someone who was going to explain something incorrigible as it was implausible. She didn't know why she had the feeling it was going to happen, but it just came to her.

The phone rang to add a tinge of surprise seconds later. This feeling was on the verge of mortifying as she picked up the phone. She felt prepared once knowing the person knew the ringing had come to an end. But Isabella was the first one to speak.

"Hello?" She asked.

"Isabella? It's me…" The voice replied. It took no more than half a second for Isabella to distinguish the acquaintance of the voice.

"Oh hi Jamie"

"Hey Bell, how's it been?" Jamie asked, pleasantly.

"It's been great, even ten times that if I think about it. I don't think I've had a happier birthday since my parents bought me that old Barbie dollhouse mansion I've kept cherry ever since" She replied, smiling more appreciably. Isabella turned to see her closet to cherish the memory.

"It turned out THAT good? Wow! What did they get you this year?" Jamie asked, nearly shocked as she really was.

"Well the one thing I really enjoyed was the new X-75 Howner bronze, a power drill that also works as an eggbeater and can grind the juice out of lemons! I've wanted that all year!" She replied, trying hard to contain the thrills within her head.

"Sweet! I thought they ran out of them like four months ago" Jamie said.

"They did, but along with the bicycle suited for my height even three years to come, my Parents decided to buy it months before" Replied Isabella. She was so optimistic about the thought.

"Sounds cool, overall, your stay in Tennessee was worth it" Jamie stated.

"It was. But just the way my parents gave it to me makes me feel sorry for them. Nobody else my age seems to car about their parents after they give them things they don't deserve, but I don't want to be one of them!" She said assertively.

"Wow, you really did find it fun then" Jamie said, after lingering for more than two seconds.

"My parents are the best a girl can have. Why else would I be happy?"

Isabella could have talked more about the same theme, given permission by her friend. Jamie seemed to have loitered past that situation.

"Well… I'm glad you had a good time" Jamie nearly failed to say.

Isabella was still happy, yet found it weird after detecting the insecurity within her friend's tone. Hopefully it didn't have to stray her out of happiness through secrecy.

"Yeah, so what's new with you? I was so wrapped up in my world I forgot to ask you the same question" Isabella asked.

"Well… It's fine… with me at least, but…" stammered Jamie. She wasn't going to get much from hoping Isabella hadn't heard the mild sigh she released. Thus, the worry wagon drove Isabella from vaguely happy to blatantly confused.

Both were unacquainted with the notice of the weather, in which rain began to pour at a growing rate. It made little difference if a storm wasn't accommodating to either of their moods.

"Seriously, you don't have to tell me, but as your friend, I'd be open to know if anything is wrong, girl" Isabella replied, not sternly, only assertively.

"There's nothing wrong, it's just…" Jamie paused.

It wasn't on the point of having Isabella mad; at least not after Jamie continued her words.

"…something really terrible I need to tell you, something you have to know" Jamie said.

Isabella was no longer happy, because she didn't care about something as trifling as that from the beginning.

"What? Did someone get hurt?" Asked Isabella.

In the middle of that discussion, someone knocked on the door hard enough for only someone as awake as Isabella to hear. Even though her parents went back to the airport to pick up some discounted luggage and trusted their daughter to wait at home.

"Hold on, Jamie, there's someone at the door" Said Isabella.

She placed the phone aside as she walked out of her room and downstairs to the door. _What self-minded person would come in this weather?_ She thought.

After opening the door, her eyes widened. The feeling of startling disclosure caused her nerves to implicitly keep her not too startled by knowing who it was.

"Hey Isabella" Phineas said, his hair almost starting to drip with moisture.

"Phineas? Um, hi, it's been a while" Isabella replied. She was still nervous, from the mere idea Phineas was here, standing but a yard and a half away from her.

"So…how's it going?" Phineas asked. The despair in his tone couldn't have been anymore detectable.

Isabella was not a master of diplomacy, but this appeared as a serious case.

"I'd like to ask you that question too, Phineas. Is everything okay?" She asked.

Phineas folded his arms. Rarely did someone like him occupy a monotonous glare. He turned his head after a while before replying.

"I don't know anymore. All I can be sure about is that I can't be okay… Not without my sister" Phineas replied, quietly but something of stern beginning to come out, hearing this made Isabella almost want to gasp. It intimidated her even more to see Phineas' fists shudder after saying this.

"Why? What happened to her? Is she okay?"

Phineas' eyes closed very tight. The appearance of intolerable ache could be surging from his intuition in his attempt to look away.

_How come I'm actually feeling this now?_ Phineas thought to the point of being surrounded by sham pressure maybe strong enough to awaken something, something within his judgment that he suddenly became aware of its existence when he stopped hiding.

_Is it her?_

"Are you okay, Phineas?" Isabella asked.

_Her eyes._ He thought. _Do I have to lie? Do I have to become an outcast from this? _

Now Phineas knew what had been going on. His denial had been trying to kill him through seemingly endless anxiety. His emotions could only remain present though that method, but it was up to him if he wanted to keep it growing inside.

"Phineas, it's raining, don't you want to come in…"

Nothing could be any less anticipated than this. Other than the speculation of his emotions' oddly fulfilled segregation, Isabella's sudden pause made him equally as concerned.

"…Phineas, are you crying?"

His head almost shot up when he heard it.

It had to stop.

"She's dead…MY SISTER'S DEAD!"

Never did she see it coming as Isabella was enfolded by his arms all of a sudden. Phineas felt more at ease now that his sentimental outlook was set free. Just like taking a midterms exam, it was going to last.

As for Isabella, unprepared was the way she felt from that instance, and to be fairly honest, shocked as well.

It wasn't simple for her to accept her absence of pity towards Candace alone, having known her fairly well. It was only the stature she was taking as of that moment which made her know how fragile the situation really was. Even worse, maybe this was what her friend was on the point of explaining to her.

Sympathy was easy to hold, but hard to express in the sense of how Isabella wanted to feel.

"I'm really sorry, Phineas. I don't think I'll ever feel your pain, like this" Said Isabella, gently stroking Phineas' head until he replied.

"I'm glad though, SNIFF, nobody deserves to feel that pain more than me. Not even my own family. Not even Candace for that SNIFF matter. Why would she die anyway?"

By now, Isabella could see it would take more than a cheap embrace to bring relieve into someone.

"Look, it's chilly; I think it will feel much easier if you come inside" Said Isabella, breaking the grip so she could look at him.

"SNIFF Fine" Said Phineas, wiping a few tears from his nose.

He was the farthest from reassured, but he couldn't blame it on anyone. Especially not Isabella, whom he didn't know found it a test in making him feel more comfortable. It was a somewhat large living room, even though its size was the last thing Phineas wanted to take interest in.

Isabella was the first to speak as she sat along with Phineas.

"Do you feel better?" Isabella asked compassionately.

Phineas wanted to say no. He didn't have to lie to her. That or he didn't have to stay on the same subject without actually changing it. But most of all, he just didn't want to sound blunt.

"I wish I was better"

_Wish._ This word lit up a spark of wakefulness between Isabella's exposures of recollection. Nevertheless was it in short supply, in order to make her forget about what she was trying to do.

"Phineas, I don't know how it feels to be in your situation, but at least let me say it's not your fault"

Phineas wiped his nose with the tissue Isabella gave him. _She's just like my sister_.

"I know it's not entirely my fault, but I still SNIFF need answers. My sister almost k-killed herself SNIFF before she turned into some un-nearthly seraph. Why w-would she leave my SNIFF family forever anyway?" Phineas replied, trying his best to keep the stuttering at a minimum.

"Well, I wouldn't blame her if she tried to end her life, even though I'd try to stop her anyway." Isabella added. She almost thought this wasn't what any right minded person would say. Until she heard Phineas continue.

"I don't think anyone would" Phineas began. By now, he had stopped stuttering from the waterworks.

"The day after my sister was taken to the hospital, she left behind a note for my Mom. In it, she wrote the words "Dear Mom, unlovingly, Candace", in the correct format though when she left behind this blank space."

It seemed startling enough for Isabella, imagining how his mother must have reacted to reading it. She could tell this next part wasn't going to be hard to explain for Phineas. Having left a pause that took five seconds to break.

"In that blank space she wrote this" said Phineas as he took out the same letter written by his own sister. Isabella went from confused to amazed when she saw Phineas take a special kind of flash light out, and illuminate over the enormous space between the only two visible phrases inside the letter. Words started becoming visible in an unaccountable way of seeing it. Phineas began reading them once they were there to see.

"I'm tired of wasting my goddamn life trying to figure out how I'll improve in remaining happy for an entire day for once. I'm less normal than my fucking brothers when you think about it. None of us serve as a better role model, even if I was the goody two-shoes daughter you're trying to turn me into. Ever since you married that Lawrence bastard, nothing is the same. I feel like I didn't know you anymore. When you have a grudge against someone, it's much easier to forget about the good times we've shared as a family, the memories of how fun it was to stay a family. But most of all, the smile I don't remember having when I was a child. If growing up means giving up your inner child, your goddamn innocence, your center of all that was once proud, I don't want to have any part in this shitty play. I may be naïve, but the way I see it, there are people who don't have to be in worse shit than I am to know hell is nothing compared to this. When I die, Mother, please just forget about me. That way you can find a good fucking reason to regret managing to have read this part of the letter"

Isabella wasn't trying to look surprised as she was, even if she felt a cold chill and her stomach broaden abnormally once Phineas finished reading. But besides that, she found it annoying to hear Phineas say those kinds of words.

"Do you know why she wrote that section in glow pen?" asked Phineas.

Isabella shook her head, even though she almost had a hesitant idea. By now, this empathy routine was becoming more and more unworthy for Isabella's endeavor in going along with it.

"There might have been a trace of insecurity while my sister was writing it. She knew Ferb and I were the only ones who understood this kind of hidden calligraphy."

He stopped perhaps to think some more. Isabella found it weird for Phineas to have been able to switch moods even if they both never went past serious. Still, she knew deep down there was still part of him which remained sad, only when it flashed itself with perceptibility when he looked Isabella in the eyes.

She was supposed to comprehend how serious these circumstances were for him. But she was just too susceptible when she looked into his eyes.

"I don't know what she was trying to tell me. All I know is that she preferred to have Ferb and I know this than my mother" Phineas said, putting both the flashlight and the letter inside his pocket.

Now this almost made Isabella want to react furiously. Phineas beat her to it when he finished his statement.

"Now that she died a Saint, I don't think I'll ever feel like I'm telling the truth whenever I start praying! If I can't blame it on God, who should I blame it on then if not myself or my family?"

The outrageous statement was enough to know when exactly Isabella knew how to handle this type of situation. Nothing felt as risky when it was for a moral cause.

"I think we both know the obvious answer, Phineas" Said Isabella.

Phineas returned a stunned glaze at Isabella. It was like saying "What?" but without the use of words.

"No one, Phineas, in fact, I think God did it for a good cause if he did send her to heaven. Think about it."

Phineas lingered his reply as he was less than positive. "Are you saying she was too holy for this world?"

"No, Phineas, what I'm saying was she had given up everything to be along side God's will, her personality, her sense of fashion. What do you think was left?" asked Isabella.

He was sure it was a rhetorical question, but it didn't sound like one when he replied.

"Her life?"

"Well… Yeah, she was just trying to teach everyone how good it was to follow the path of God. I know you really miss her, but we can both be sure she's in a better place" Isabella finished.

Phineas didn't feel sad anymore; he just felt a bit nervous after considering the talk in which death became the prime subject.

"But I feel weaker than before, Isabella. Is death easier than it appears now that my sister's in heaven? Does that mean I'll be next, or my mom or Dad, or Ferb?" He asked.

"Phineas, nobody is ever sure. All we can do is expect nothing. When our time comes, there's a chance we may know. And even if we don't, who cares? Death is like the apocalypse, it will come, but we'll never know when" Replied Isabella, with the belief she could get used to this.

Now this kind of news made Phineas smile a bit more. His optimism was slowly being mended by the motivation he was gaining from Isabella's explanation.

"You really think so?" Phineas asked.

As his emotional lesions began curing themselves, he began to see something new. This came the more he retained eye contact with Isabella. It was like a flower of joy slowly blooming within his soul. Planting hope that he thought was soon turning irreplaceable.

"Of course, Phineas, in fact, I'm sure that even though she's happier now, Candace misses you as much as you miss her." Isabella replied, moderately smiling.

The two held each other close as this could mean they now felt the same for each other. Whether it was eye to eye, empathy, or simple friendship, it was clearer now, even if Phineas was on the verge of confirming it.

"Thank you so much Isabella. You're the closest friend I've ever had" Said Phineas.

"I'm so glad you feel better and that you consider me your friend" Isabella replied.

"What am I saying? You're more than a friend, there's no other way, I…"

Phineas hesitated. He was only human, meaning inducement could be either a bad thing or a good thing depending on how the truth would be taken. It was the power of newly-formed integrity between him and Isabella which gave Phineas the strength to let it all out.

"…**I love you**"

Phineas honestly knew what it was he was trying to say. He could admit he wasn't completely prepared to understand what it meant for him to say such a word.

But Isabella understood exactly why Phineas had said that, even when it wasn't for a normal cause.

All this brought her back to her eleventh birthday.

"_Happy birthday, dear Isabella, happy birthday to you" Her entire family sang._

"_All right, dear, now make a wish and blow out the candles" Said her mother. _

_Isabella grinned deeply and trembled with bliss as she looked at the candles. So many wishes were there for her to reach, but only one she really wanted the most._

Never had she sworn to God before. Especially when she claimed she'd give it up whether or not it was conceded. Her persistence had become a threat to whomever it was which controlled the spectrum of luck. Now she saw this as a consequence heading her way.

Isabella's smile waned in a slower pace the deeper she thought into it.

"_I wish…" She thought._

She shouldn't have rushed right away. For the past three years, it's always been the same aspiration until she finally chose to surrender pompously. Those last six words, which now became an epitome of cruel paradox, caused a bomb of anxiety to go off in her conscience.

"…_I wish __**Phineas would love me**__"_

_Isabella blew all the candles out the hardest she could._

She was stuck in a remorse trip from the past. Almost on the verge of figuring out why it could have happened, only if she had not noticed the rain stopped dripping. Plus the scheme of which she and Phineas were still together.

Her façade could take it from here.

"Aw thanks Phineas, I love you too, you know that" She replied, somehow paying no attention if it was the right way of responding for her, even if it was enough for the both of them to look at each other again.

"Well, I'm sure I've horrified my family enough into a coma when they start looking for me" Said a lighthearted Phineas.

"Oh, that's right. Well… I guess we'll talk more tomorrow" She replied.

It wasn't raining anymore, so this worked out as Phineas walked towards the door.

"Bye Isabella" Phineas said, before closing the door on his way out.

"Bye…" Isabella replied, even if she knew it might not have been enough for him to hear.

Now she was alone again. Inside her room, left to think about all that could have transpired. Isabella sat down on her bed to acquire assuage wile she tried. She understood what had really happened, although she tried to sway it away with denial. In reality, everything happened for a reason without any uncanny flukes. Even when those flukes could only be unravelled by one person:

The way she saw it, all of this meant it was her fault.

Candace supposedly could've died for Isabella's theory. She could have been destined to pass away so that hardship was recommendable for anyone who knew how to take the blame.

Or, destiny could have aided Isabella in granting her stupid wish. Meaning this had all been a setup from the beginning.

"What have I done? I killed her!" shouted Isabella.

She didn't have to cry, but it happened likewise. All along, this was set up by someone to be sure she had known what would happen once her wish was granted without any compunction for her actions. Of course she had only been nine to eleven years of age when constantly having made that wish. But she didn't grow out of it until now.

Her wish had been granted, now it seemed Phineas and her were destined to be as one forever. Now Phineas felt the same way about her as she always did for him. If only Isabella hadn't hoped Phineas saw her as someone special. She wasn't anymore special than a kindergarten friend who would move days to come, leaving behind nothing special except the dim acquaintance of his existence.

Isabella would do nothing except weep almost inaudibly until her parents came inside. Just when this could have been true, she takes a look at her cupboard.

The phone was still not hung up. Clearly her friend would have cut her off by now, so Isabella pointlessly took it to her ear. She couldn't have been any more wrong.

"Hello? Bell" Jamie asked.

She was still there. Isabella quickly tried to seem strong within her willpower to cease crying.

"Hey Jamie, sorry I took so long" Replied Isabella.

There wasn't a need for detail within the explanation Isabella was trying to share. Her guilt trip would have to be postponed once she had the time. Better yet, the simple fact her friend chose to continue whatever form of gossip with her made her believe there was no such thing.

Her friend could have left her alone for ignoring her after nine minutes. But just as Isabella returned, Jamie returned to her as well. Bringing up a new reason to hope all could go well, now that Isabella knew how limits worked unless it came down to trust.

_Maybe I'm not so selfish after all _Isabella thought _at least not anymore._

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**That's it, seriously. I have nothing else to offer. So please, even though I appreciate you people reading it, there's no real purpose in believeing I'll write anymore, okay? Thank you!**


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